


Our Little Corner of The World

by carolferris



Series: The Bat and The Flash [3]
Category: DC Cinematic Universe, Justice League (2017)
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Barry has abandonment issues, Butt Plugs, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 16:23:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13298667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolferris/pseuds/carolferris
Summary: Bruce leaves on a week-long business trip, and Barry is left alone to mull over what their relationship means.





	Our Little Corner of The World

**Author's Note:**

> Update (01/29/2019): I don't plan on finishing this. Sorry. Will write for Barry/Bruce in the future again, just not sure when.

Barry had been living under Bruce’s roof for a month when it clicked him. The realization came flooding just like rain in spring, and he could hear his mind making a comical *boom* sound (just like in the movies) as it concluded that, technically, he was under the wings of a so-called _sugar daddy_. Like, for real, with the _sugar_ and parent-like financial assistance that came with it, the whole thing. He felt stupider than ever. He’s pretty sure he stared at a blank wall for fifteen whole minutes, contemplating whether or not to bash his head against it several times. Why did it take him that long? He should’ve known from the get go.

Moving in didn’t seem like a good idea at first, seeing as they had been together for a short amount of time, but Bruce was relentless and Barry just didn’t have it in him to say no. “It’s not permanent,” Barry assured, as if trying to convince himself more than any other person. “Until my internship starts to pay off and I can find a better place in Gotham.”

Barry vividly remembers the enigmatic look on Bruce’s face, and jesus fuck he should’ve figured out what it meant at the time. It’s obvious Bruce was mocking him because, with a lab tech income, there was no way in hell he’d afford a place in an area of Gotham where people don’t get mugged for breathing. Oh and also, Bruce didn’t plan on letting him go any time soon. They were becoming a thing, and Barry took it lightly. 

Ok, but if he’s being honest, he can’t say he regrets moving into Bruce’s place. It’s a gorgeous glasshouse, Batcave hidden beneath a private lake, the whole thing shielded by a huge pine forest. Plus it’s located pretty much in the middle of nowhere, which means he can run around and not worry about any civilians spotting him. The inside of the property is well-decorated and fancy, but kind of dramatic too. I mean, who even needs that much technology? Barry’s jaw dropped to the ground when he found out a password was required to unlock the fridge. The damn fridge.

_(He’s been trying to charm Bruce into deactivating the lock because get the hell out, all that expensive stuff and Bruce’s worried somebody’s going to break in and steal their food?! But it’s a work in progress.)_

And it’s not just the house, really. Barry has never lived with a romantic partner before and it’s both scary and comforting to have someone to come back to every day. He’s even grown fond of their dynamic: breakfast around seven, dinner at eight, long nights that nearly always leave Bruce way more exhausted than him (he has his metabolism to thank for that), and holding onto Bruce’s warm body as the skyline-silver lake gets overthrown by fog during the early hours of the day. 

The arrangement makes Barry happy in a bittersweet way. 

Stability is something he was never privileged enough to have. Not with a girlfriend, not with his own parents, so it does feel like he’s using the opportunity to satisfy his unnurtured childhood needs, which brings him back to the whole sugar daddy thing. I mean, he’s a millennial, so of course he knew what the term meant, but it sucks that it makes sense for him to be in that situation. He’s never been one to allow himself accommodation–his childhood was a mess of homes and schools and unfamiliar faces, never truly feeling like he belonged–he got used to being on the move, to the restlessness of never really knowing what came next, it’s still hard for him to believe anything is permanent. 

To put it in a less extravagant way, he’s got a few daddy issues he needs to sort through. 

Which leads to another sensitive topic: his real father. You know, the one who half partook in making him a human being and all. He was thrilled when Barry broke the news about working at S.T.A.R. Labs in Gotham under a letter of recommendation from Bruce Wayne himself. (Of course he didn’t know Barry was going to move in with the man and let him fuck him senseless against every hard surface on the place, but Barry felt it was better to leave that part out.). It was everything his father wanted: his son moving on with his life far away from that prison. Barry wasn’t too sad about moving away, either, he figured his father would be okay. Catering to the old man’s wishes would actually provide him with some peace, and he could think about the bigger picture by working his way up to the top in criminology, to get dad out of that depressing place.

Needless to say, it’s easier said than done. Analyzing his relationship status with Bruce brings a ton of unresolved feelings to the surface and leaves way too many questions hanging in the air. Uncomfortable questions, questions Barry would be perfectly fine with never having to answer, but they’re still in the back of his head, on top of his left shoulder, whispering into his ear: Bruce’s just having his fun with you, it won’t last long, and you’re colossally fucked when he gets bored. 

So long story short, Barry questions everything now. Or at least it gets worse when Bruce goes away on a week-long business trip (it’s been precisely six days and seven hours, not that he’s counting.). Bruce has never been gone this long before and as hard as Barry is trying to keep it in, it’s eating him alive, his ghosts haunting him through every step across the empty house. He guesses it’s got something to do with his crippling fear of abandonment. Previously endearing aspects of the property have turned into a depressing painting without Bruce there giving it the right amount of light it needs, which is a funny statement to say the least, seeing as Bruce could easily be described as the embodiment of darkness itself. Barry is lonely, and he’s scared that Bruce’s going to come back and finally put an end to this. He feels like it’s just a matter of waiting, like that’s all he’s done, wait, wait, and wait some more, and he wants to crawl out of his goddamn skin for it.

He can’t help but feel like a helpless little kid all over again.

 

***

 

Barry Allen is no good at waiting. Ever since the accident, it’s obvious that the entire concept of time has shifted for him. Everything is faster now, and what drives him mad is the agonizingly slow pace every other person on earth seems to move in. It’s a condition he’s had to learn to live with, and he’s gotten pretty good at not losing his shit, except it’s exactly six in the afternoon and he physically can’t wait another minute to get out of that lab. Who decided clocks had to be this slow at measuring time?  


He should be enjoying this, Barry thinks. 

This is something his father wanted for him, something Bruce gave him, something he wanted for himself, but he can feel every nerve ending in his body shaking with anticipation, wanting to be somewhere else. Like the inside of the lab room and the pink hair tie he’s currently analyzing as evidence are an infection his body is trying to fight. 

Bruce’s supposed to come back tonight. He’s supposed to be there, sitting by the fire in an armchair, reading one of his weird old-people books by the time Barry gets home. Or he could be down in the Batcave with that signature “the world is an awful place and I can’t do anything about it” look spread across his face, analyzing every bit of information the Bat of Gotham missed while he was away. It’s not that Bruce left Gotham unattended – he mentioned some guy, something like Batwing, keeping an eye on things – but Barry knows the man doesn’t trust anyone’s judgement but his own. He’s just that stubborn. 

Barry looks up at the clock and mewls, because three seconds have gone by since his train of thought started, and he feels like he’s going to puke, but there’s something slowly moving in the corner of his eye, something that’s getting close to tapping him in the shoulder- “Allen?” He hears a voice, and he’s heard it before, but who the fuck- “Allen? Snap out of it!” 

“Shit,” Barry drops the hair tie and a forceps he was using to maneuver it. “What the hell?” He blinks really fast and realizes its James, his lab partner and supervisor, snapping fingers at him like it’s supposed to pull him out of a trance. 

“Pay attention, goddamn it!” James stresses. “Someone’s out there calling for you, you can check out.” 

A beam of hope sprinkles Barry’s heart and he’d think it’s a sweet feeling if it wasn’t absolutely ridiculous. Nonetheless, he makes his way out of the room as fast as _humanly passable_ , grabs his stuff from the locker outside and bursts through a few doors until he’s at the reception room.

What Barry finds is a familiar face, although not the one he was hoping to see. He curses at himself for being a little disappointed.

“Barry!” Diana smiles, walking towards the boy with open arms, letting her hands rest on his shoulders. “My god, call me old fashioned, but you already look different. Young people grow up so fast.” She says, pulling him in for a hug.

“We have a lot to worry about these days. Makes sense we’d get old quickly.” Barry says through Diana’s hair. Her curls are soft and she smells of lilies and vanilla. 

“Yeah, well… If you say so.” She pulls away, giving him half a smile that reminds him of his mother in a way. “I was in Gotham for a vernissage, thought I’d drop by and see how you’re doing before I left.”

Barry smiles. He missed her. She’s the one who made him feel welcomed in their super-secret team in the first place, and it’s nice to see her when the world isn’t threatening to fall on their heads. 

“I’m great! I’m great,” Barry rambles, letting excitement crack through his voice. He figures if he were to go home now, after getting off work early, he’d probably have to face an empty house for another hour or two. The thought is torturous on its own. “You wanna go get something to eat? I’m starving. I mean, I’m always starving, but you know…”

“Sure!” Diana says, gently resting her hand at the top of Barry’s back and shifting the two of them towards the exit door. “You will have to pick a place, though, because I’m not familiar with the neighborhood,” she mocks.

They settle for a small diner a quarter away from S.T.A.R. Labs, and Barry is diving into three different sandwiches when Diana seems to have had enough of small talk. “I couldn’t get in touch with Bruce,” she carefully says, sounding almost concerned.

“Huh?” Barry says, a huge chunk of bread, bacon and eggs getting in the way of his words. 

“Have you seen him lately?” Diana asks, handing Barry a napkin.

Barry almost chokes on the food and takes his time downing a gulp of orange soda, thinking of a way to avoid the question. Diana doesn’t know anything. (Does she?). She probably doesn’t know Bruce is out of town over a business deal and is concerned about him. He’s a team member. It’s normal, Barry thinks. He should not freak out over this. He should not freak out over this. 

“I--Uh,” Barry stammers, still not sure what to say. “Why would I have seen him?” 

Diana gives him a ‘is this really how you want to do this?’ kind of look and Barry is puzzled. 

“For starters, you both live in the same city,” she says. “I figured if another team member would know what he’s up to, it’d be you.” 

That’s fair, Barry thinks. He’s still confused on how much she knows, though.

“Oh and there’s the fact that you two were having an affair back when we were trying to defeat Steppenwolf.” 

Barry half freezes, half opens his mouth. What the fuck? What the actual fuck? 

“Come on. Did you really think we wouldn’t notice? You were all over each other.” She continues, and Barry’s eyes stretch so far out of his skull he thinks they’re going to drop like two tiny glass balls. Diana falls silent. Barry considers his options. 

He could tell her their assumptions were wrong and that nothing has ever happened between him and Bruce. He could change the subject and tell her he has no idea where Bruce is. He could just run, too, that option was never off the table. Instead, Barry decides to take on the boldest of all: tell her the truth. There’s no use in trying to deceive Diana, anyway. Barry knows she wouldn’t fall for it, and the lie would drive them apart as members of what’s supposed to be a wonderful alliance. She seems to care about him. Barry cares about her too, he knows that much.

Barry opens his mouth a couple of times, not sure where to start. “He--He’s away on a business trip. Wayne Enterprises business.” He finally says, tearing his gaze from Diana’s. He can’t bring himself to look at her.

“When is he coming back?” Diana asks. Her tone is softer than usual, which makes him feel slightly less awkward. 

When Barry raises his head again, she’s still looking at him. “Today,” Barry shrugs. “I think.”

In the end, Barry tells her everything. Maybe not all details, just the right amount to make him feel less heavy on the heart, but Diana is a good listener and he only realizes he’s spilled it out when it’s already in the open. She doesn’t judge him. All she does is ask him to be careful, and he promises he will. Barry can tell Diana has a hard time understanding human relationships. From what he could gather, she lost someone a very long time ago and still hasn’t quite gotten back on her feet. Maybe she’s as rusty as he is in this, and that thought alone brings him comfort. There’s nothing better than knowing you’re not alone.

Diana offers Barry a ride home–to Bruce’s house, which he told her all about–and there’s a comfortable silence between the two along the way. It’s only when Barry is out of the car that Diana finally speaks.

“From what I can tell,” she says, peaking through the window, “he seems to care about you too, Barry.” She gives him a sincere smile. “You should take it easy on yourself.” 

And with that she drives away, leaving Barry to the pines.

 

***

 

Barry turns into a feverish mess at the realization that he could be seeing Bruce again within the next thirty seconds. His body shakes, sweat breaks out in waves across his palms and he hyperventilates a little. dod, he’s such an idiot. Who even gets this worked up over another person? He wasn’t this nervous when about to face an ancient god, for fucks sake. Are relationships supposed to be this nerve-wrecking, or is he just overreacting? 

He moves forward anyway, frowning upon realizing the door is locked, just the way he left it in the morning. His stomach turns into a knot. No, no, no, don’t freak out yet, Barry thinks. He’s there. He has to be.

“Bruce?” Barry yells out the minute he steps into the door and the lights are automatically turned on. Nothing seems to have moved. The boy sprints to the fireplace, unlocking the secret elevator shaft linked down to the Batcave. 

Barry gets in. Bruce’s going to be there, right? He’s going to be there. 

Except he isn’t. Barry scans everything in a matter of seconds and the place is completely empty. Bruce hasn’t come back yet. Barry thinks about Diana’s words, and they only serve the purpose of making him more confused. If Bruce does care, why wouldn’t he send news? If he cares, why would he still not be here? 

Barry glances at his running suit in the tall glass case Bruce keeps it in, paraded in the cave with Bruce’s own Batman fit, eyes resting on the weird spray-painted costume he’s not sure who it belonged to. Barry’s always been too afraid to ask. He’s seen Bruce staring at it twice and in both occasions he seemed to have been stricken with grief, like surges of pain took over his body, something akin to being stabbed in the chest. Yes, that bad. 

He’s lost in thoughts when a sudden vibration in his back pocket causes him to jump, and he’s cursing when he recognizes the letters on the phone screen. It’s a message.

A message from Bruce.

> _There’s something for you by my work desk. Make sure you’re wearing it tomorrow, but not before then.  
>  _

  
Barry shakes, and wants to type back half a dozen text bubbles.  


> _What?_  
>  Where are you?  
>  Come back.  
>  Please.  
>  Tell me what’s going on. 

__  
__  


__But he doesn’t. Instead, he shoves his phone back into his pocket and scans the cave once more. Work desk. Bruce’s got one upstairs, but Barry assumes that’s not the kind of work he’s referring to, so he moves toward Batman’s operation desk, which is surrounded by computer screens and advanced databases (something similar to what he had back in Central City, but less messy and way more effective). He sits on a rolling chair, looks behind a few screens, moves a bunch of papers and tries to find anything that would resemble a gift. It’s when he opens up the third of Bruce’s physical file drawers that he spots it._ _

__The black velvet case is small and lightweight, and if Barry had to guess what’s inside, his first thought would be some type of jewelry. Barry opens it as delicately as possible, and his lips part at the sight in front of him._ _

__It’s a plug. Bruce got him a plug._ _

__Barry analyzes the toy, feels the weight of it in his hands. It’s rather small and, to say the least, elegant, embroidered with a pretty diamond-shaped scarlet jewel in its flared end. Barry's eyes dart over to his suit, then back to the plug, then back to the red suit. It's an exact match. The thought of Bruce shopping for something like this with him in mind sends shivers down his spine and causes a flush to rise to his cheeks._ _

__Bruce wants him to wear it._ _

__Barry licks his lips, letting it fall into a small grin. _This might be fun.__ _

__

__***_ _

__

__Barry wakes up to soft sheets, morning light flaring through the naked glass of Bruce’s bedroom. He soaks in the coziness of the covers and searches for that familiar warmth, the feeling of hot muscular skin under his fingers, wanting to entangle himself in it. He drapes his hands over a couple of pillows and they land on an empty spot, pulling him back to reality all too soon. He is, in fact, alone in the king-sized bed._ _

__Bruce is supposed to come back later in the day, but god, it still feels like a lifetime away and everything smells like him. The covers, the pillowcases, even the sheets. It’s inebriating and it makes Barry go a little dizzy. To say he misses the man would be an understatement, since he’s full-on experiencing withdrawal symptoms at this point. He’s an idiot for thinking he could keep his shit together through this week, and an even bigger one for becoming so dependent. For getting so used to being touched and wanted, to a point where it physically hurts not having Bruce there, doing those things to him._ _

__He finds that his cock is stiff beneath his body, a mix of morning wood and what would best be described as a blazing need for release that has been boiling over for the past seven days. He’s so hard it feels uncomfortable to be lying on his stomach so he turns over, letting his hand crawl into the inside of his boxers, just like Bruce’s would whenever they’re pretending to watch a movie together, lips pressing weak little kisses down Barry’s throat. Barry almost feels like Bruce’s there, breathing down on him, touching him in all the right places._ _

__The thought of Bruce’s hands trailing patterns over his ribs sends shivers down his spine and so he grabs his already throbbing dick, spreading pre-come along his girth. The feeling reminds him of the way Bruce would unbutton his jeans against the kitchen counter after a kiss, dropping to his knees to give Barry’s shaft just the right amount of slick it needed. Barry never complained about those random occasions, though; fuck if he’s ever seen anything hotter than a man as gorgeous and powerful as Bruce Wayne staring up at him from the ground, eyes boring through his with wicked lust, wanting nothing more than to make him feel good._ _

__His hips jerk a little into his palm, his gaze temporarily falling onto the bedside cabinet and spotting the container of Bruce’s little gift, causing his brain to screech to a halt. He hasn’t planned exactly _when_ in the day he’s going to put it on, but the thought of having it inside of him as he jerks off isn’t too bad. _ _

__So Barry retrieves a small bottle of lube from one of the drawers on the cabinet and starts to work himself open. One finger in first, and it burns. He’s too tight, too empty, hasn’t felt Bruce in him for too long, it takes him a while to start feeling good. He thinks of Bruce’s thick length and how it stretches him open until it burns good, causing him to lose all his senses. He thinks of Bruce pushing his face onto the mattress and fucking him senseless, taking what he wants. Not too long after that, soft little whimpering noises are coming from the back of his throat as his middle finger fucks his hole, and it’s suddenly not enough. Barry slides in another finger, then a third, and it feels so good now so he groans, bites down on his lower lip, keeps tugging at his cock._ _

__Not letting himself fall over the edge, Barry withdrawals his fingers, replacing them with the toy. It’s as big as his fingers were inside of him, and it hits his prostate once it’s all the way in, a moan finding its way out of his lips. He squeezes his eyes shut and images of Bruce come flooding back. Bruce’s low voice and ragged breath as their cocks rub against each other, Bruce’s hot open mouthed kisses that leave Barry breathless and gasping for more, Bruce’s worshipful kisses down his neck as he fucks him hard against the bathroom sink._ _

__The sounds of self-pleasure fill the room and Barry can’t take it anymore, the plug hitting his best spot with every jerk into his palm and Bruce’s smell all over the bed are enough to make his stomach coil tightly. He doesn’t try to stay quiet, who’s going to hear him anyway? He calls Bruce’s name and fastens his pace, hot sticky cum spurting out onto his abdomen in an obscene way._ _

__Once the aftershocks are over something constricts in Barry's chest, and after a moment, he recognizes the feeling to be guilt._ _

__Barry feels guilty he came without Bruce's permission, guilty that he didn't have enough self-control to get through the week. As a way of punishing himself, he decides he's going to keep the plug inside of him until Bruce comes home. He'll endure every last bit of torturous pleasure and need for release, but won't let himself come._ _

__He's going to do it for Bruce. He knows he can._ _


End file.
